


Suspicion

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alcohol, Betrayal, Break Up, Cylons, Dying Laura, F/M, Het, Military, Season/Series 02, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has their reasons for keeping secrets. Mostly, they're not so complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suspicion

"Lee? Lee? Lee! Hey, Lee Adama? You're spending too much time on politics as a reality-avoiding device," Kara tells her boyfriend, looking down at him on his bunk, working on some kind of speech or brief or memo. "All work, all the time."

"Frak's sake, Kara," Lee complains, trying to turn away from her. "I have work to do. It's not like I'm purposefully neglecting you. Go play some pyramid or something."

Kara kicks the corner of the bunk. "Go frak yourself!" she snaps. "Go play. And yes, Lee, when you spend three nights running working on the presidential election, it counts as neglect with a purpose. Hence, purposeful neglect."

Lee sighs heavily. "Okay, so I'm neglecting you," he says. "And I'm sorry. And the president is only going to die once, so maybe you can show a little patience?"

Rolling her eyes, Kara stops kicking the bunk corner. The shaking and dull sound stop rattling Lee's skull almost immediately.

"I'm showing patience," Kara says. "It's not doing anyone any good, you hiding in here and pretending that the real world doesn't exist, you know. I'm still here, and President Roslin is still at death's doorstep. When was the last time you went and visited her, anyway?"

Lee doesn't answer for a moment, and Kara groans.

"Lee," she says. "You need to stop doing this. Like, as a matter of fact, if you don't visit the president and meet me somewhere that's not our rack, we are through. Show me you can be there for me. Or...I don't know why we even need to keep torturing ourselves, you know?"

Lee rolls over on his side, and Kara feels a little bad for throwing out an ultimatum. He hasn't been sleeping, she can tell. There are dark circles. He looks like he's had his nose pressed against the papers he's been looking at, and there's an ink smudge on his cheek and his fingertips.

"Are you threatening me, Starbuck?" he asks.

"No, sir, I'm telling you as a woman and as a friend, that the way you're acting is childish and stupid," Kara replies. "Go. Get out of this room. It smells like you haven't moved in two days, you morose motherfrakker. I expect you'll be cleaned up for me by our twenty-one thirty date."

For once, he doesn't argue, just stretches and groans with stiffness and pain. "Where?" he asks, rubbing an eye.

"Observation deck," Kara says. "You stink like spoiled beef, Apollo. Get a shower. Immediately."

Lee sniffs under his arms and winces. "Yeah," he says. "I think you've got a point. See you at twenty-one thirty, okay?"

As he leaves, his clothes rumpled and clinging to him in bad ways, Kara leans against the bunk and sighs.

"Lords of Kobol," she prays quietly. "Help him to come to terms with this."

* * *

  


Billy hasn't been sleeping either. Lee can tell from his general stance. He does, however, perk up when he sees Lee.

"Oh, thank gods," he says quietly. "I was about to find anyone I could to track you down."

Lee's heart sinks into his stomach. "Bad?" he asks. Gods, he's been a fool. An ass. She's been all alone for the past week, ever since she fought with his father, and he's been hiding in his bunk like an idiot.

"Three days, maybe less," Billy says. "She's given up, I think. She's lost some weight, and she won't keep food down. Wouldn't even let us try today. Cottle even tried and she told him to go to hell."

Lee wants to throw something, or maybe pound his head in the wall for being so damn stubborn and afraid. "Will she let me see her?" he asks.

"Of course," Billy says, leading him down the corridors of Colonial One to the president's sickroom. "She always wants to see you."

"Has she been asking?" Lee asks, feeling a fresh wave of nausea wash over him.

"Not aloud," Billy says. "But she's been waiting to see you, Captain. I know that."

He raps on the door. "Madam President?" Billy asks.

A sleep-weary, slightly drugged voice answer. "Yes, Billy?"

"Captain Apollo is here," he says, practically pushing Lee in front of him. Lee throws him a what-the-frak look and then stumbles into the cabin.

Everything Billy's said hasn't been enough. Lee almost feels like turning and running. She's so thin. Still beautiful, still clearly Laura Roslin, but the hollows under her eyes, the bruises on her hands, on her collarbone, all stand as silent rebukes to Lee's mulishness.

"I must look worse than I thought," she says after a moment of awkward silence.

"I...I'm so sorry," Lee says, sitting down in the chair that practically has Billy's large, hunched-over form etched in it. "I was being an ass. I'm sorry my father said those things to you, and that I wouldn't take sides."

"You're his son," Laura says simply. "That's not a situation you should have been in. And you're here when it counts."

Lee nods, not trusting himself to speak. He's nearer tears than he thought he would be. But she's so fragile-looking. He can practically see through her, and at the same time, she looks illuminated. Luminous, like she's been burnt down to that inner light that's been guiding them all.

"I wish I'd been here every day," he says. "I can't stand the idea that you've been here alone."

"I haven't been alone. Billy's been here. Starbuck. Other staffers," she says lightly, her eyes searching his face. "Even your father came to apologize. And Zarek."

"You know what I mean. I should have been here," Lee says, feeling a strange surge of jealousy. Kara? His father? And they hadn't dragged him here before? What the frak was wrong with people?

"I would have liked that," Laura says gracefully.

Lee shakes his head, suddenly frustrated and feeling wild around the edges. "How do you **do** that?" he asks. "How do you turn back the anger? I was a jackass. And you're forgiving me. Aren't you upset? How do you stay so strong all the time?"

A strange expression flits over her face and she laughs, shaking her head right back at him. Suddenly that inner light in her eyes seems to flare up and then, to Lee's horror, flag a little.

"You think I'm strong? Oh, gods, Lee, I've been so afraid," Laura confesses. She's shivering. "I'm scared and isolated and I don't think I can face tonight alone."

And the thing of it is, she doesn't ask. Not even now, when Laura has every right to ask him for this. She's too strong to ask, even now, when all the masks are off and his president is alone and scared and waiting to die, clinging to the last of her strength with bare will.

Lee knows Kara is waiting. Knows that even now, her ill-timed challenge to him -- "show me you can be there for me" -- is going to frak him in a big way. He can make it up to her later. Stupid Kara, stupid challenge. She'll understand.

"You're not going to," Lee says. "I promise."

Laura sighs, a long, ragged sound that matches the hollowness of her eyes. "Everyone faces the underworld alone, Lee," Laura murmurs. "But...thank you."

And then she puts her head on his shoulder. Without thinking, Lee puts an arm around his president, and she quietly sinks into him. It's surprisingly natural, the two of them together. Quiet.

"I'm sorry," Laura says after a minute.

"Why are you sorry?" he asks. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"I keep doing these things that take you away from your family and friends," she says. "I can't help but feeling I'm using you."

"You have changed my life," Lee replies. "More than anyone, you have changed my life, and I can't imagine not having known you."

"Is that a good thing?" she asks, half-smiling. "It's all right. I'm having another personal crisis. I have four or five an hour. They get tedious. Tell me if you don't want me to have them aloud."

"Talk all you want," Lee says. "I'm listening. Are you all right?"

"Nauseous, tired, afraid," Laura says. "Profoundly selfish. I was so glad when you told me you'd stay tonight, Lee. I don't think you could know how much."

He puts a hand over hers, and she shivers. Her hand is dry and warm and he rubs his thumb back and forth over it.

The silence is practically alive with unspoken things. Lee can't help but wonder what's going on in her head. There's always been something very remote about President Roslin and right now, she is immediate, but still somewhere Lee can't follow. And it's a somewhere he wants to be, because despite himself, it's that thing in her he's calling an inner light. It's the good in her that makes him know that following her is the right thing.

"What are you thinking about right now?" he asks.

"Captain Apollo, don't ask me that," Laura says hoarsely. "It's part of the selfish crisis."

"You can tell me," Lee urges.

"Oh, I was thinking..." and she pauses. "That your father is lucky to have you as a son."

He doesn't believe it. "Why can't you tell me?" Lee asks.

"Because I'm not going to say something that you'll have to carry the rest of your life," Laura replies without missing a beat.

"It can't be that bad," Lee says. "I'm here to listen, not to judge. Please?"

She shakes her head. "I can't," Laura whispers.

"Did you kill someone? Do you hate my father after all? Do you think you're a Cylon? What is it?" asks Lee, feeling a little alarmed. "Please."

Her breath is very quiet for the next few seconds, but Lee can hear it as though it were a concert.

"I wish I weren't going to die," Laura begins in a shaky voice. "Because I were going to live, things could have been so different."

And she sobs, two, three, four times, and then breathes out noisily. Lee processes the innocuous statement, and knows immediately what she means. Too immediately. Immediately in a way that makes it all make sense. For her and for him.

"Yes," he finally says. "They would have been."

Startled jump against his shoulder. "Oh, gods," Laura says softly. "I didn't want to burden you with that."

"That's not a burden, Laura," he says. "I think I always knew. We've both known, haven't we?"

"Yes," she finally agrees, sagging. "I think we have."

He reaches out and brushes her face with his hand. She turns her head up toward his, eyes bright with nearly-tears, and very gravely presses a kiss into the palm of his hand.

"We would have been happy, I think," Laura says.

Lee thinks about it, the way he never would have, ever before. And she's not wrong; they would have been supremely happy together. He can see it now, even considering the shock for his father, the initial hurt it would cause Kara, and even potential political scandal. It doesn't change that the balance is happy. For some reason, Lee's mind is focused on how she would have kissed him on nights like this, when it was just the two of them.

That he can see very clearly.

"I think I have to kiss you," Lee says. "Just once. May I?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You don't even have to ask," Laura replies, turning her face up as he leans down and very slowly starts to kiss her.

Gently at first, but as Lee's hand coils into Laura's hair, the regret that this will be their only kiss, that he's been robbed of this, turns mourning into passion. Her hand is against his jaw, and she is too thin, but there's something electric in the current between them. The very last of her strength seems to be rallying itself, taking something from the release of that selfish confession.

That he has to live a life where this will always be denied him is driving Lee out of his mind suddenly.

"Don't leave me," he says, feeling tears running down his face. "Not now."

"Oh, gods, don't..." she answers, "I can't stay."

He puts both hands on her shoulders. "Don't tell me that, Laura," Lee says. "You're stronger than anyone I've ever met. Live for me."

"I have," she says simply. "Every minute."

They're both crying, and he grabs her for another desperate kiss, and common sense has betrayed them both, and he's going to bruise her worse if he's not careful, but he can't stop.

And when she quietly whispers something in his ear, about caution. About need. About how it could be done if they are very, VERY careful, Lee doesn't even hesitate.

"Yes."

It's not really about sex. It's about that moment of knowing about love denied, about a future that Lee can see in her eyes, and the cruelty of the gods. He just wants to have this. One night to remember about the other future Lee Adama could have had. About the woman he would have loved, does love, will always love, but not the way he should have.

They're very careful. There are still bruises on her jaw when she stretches out on her berth-bed thing and pulls a blanket over her. Even metaphor has fled, and so they look like bruises, three distinct purplish marks sitting on her face. There's another on her forearm, and Lee is overcome with guilt.

"I hurt you."

"No," she says definitely. "This is more than I could have imagined. In this future, anyway."

He stays the night, even after she falls asleep, and eventually, he gets the first sleep he's gotten in a week.

She's still asleep -- and alive -- when he wakes up and knows that he's frakked if he doesn't get back to Galactica immediately.

Lee leans over and kisses her on the forehead. Laura doesn't do much more than stir, and her eyes don't open.

"I love you," he says to her. "Good-bye."

And then he goes, certain he will never see Laura Roslin alive again.

At least nobody comments on the tears in his eyes as he salutes and leaves Colonial One. There's the coldest comfort yet, but Lee holds onto it all the way back to Galactica and the rest of his life.

* * *

  


Three days later, she is not dead. In fact, when she walks into the infirmary under her own power, Laura's bruises are even healing, and are ugly yellowish smudges that Cottle looks at askance.

In fact, Laura feels better than she has in weeks. She's actually gotten some sleep, real sleep, not the horrible morphine sleep that fails to refresh. Somehow that makes it easier to focus.

"Not dead yet, I see," Cottle says. "Going to cheat the old bastard after all? Where'd you get the bruises?"

"Bad habits," Laura lies, pantomining holding her chin with her own hand too hard.

"Those'll kill you ever time," Cottle replies. "Look like they're healing normally."

"Yes, they are," Laura agrees. "I've been sleeping, too."

"Impressive," Cottle says. "What happened? Fall in love and decide to live after all?"

Her eyes widen too fast to cover it up, and Cottle snorts. "Let's get your blood tests. I'll hold off on the pregnancy test until next month."

It earns him a rueful chuckle, and her a snort in return, but Laura puts her arm out for the inevitable needle-pinch.

Wondering. Not daring to do more than that, but definitely wondering what, if anything, might be going on.

* * *

  


Kara doesn't ream Lee too hard for ditching his ultimatum. In true Kara-fashion, after kicking up their rack when it was clear he'd stood her up, she went and almost picked a fight with Tigh, which turned into a six-hour poker game where Lee was abused up and down by every pilot.

Lee is grateful for the reprieve, even if he is now Captain Ditchwad of the Clan Jackasstica. Lee is also feeling like a scumbag on the one hand, and strangely unrepentant on the other.

"Hey, Billy," Kara calls to the young man waiting outside the infirmary, leaning against Lee as they head off for the Observation Deck. "How's the president?"

No trace of her usual snark; Kara, like everyone, is waiting for the president to die and is sad about the utter inevitability of it. Lee sticks his hands in his pockets suddenly.

"Better," Billy replies, sounding surprised. "She got some bruises the other night, and they're healing. I'm hoping that means some decent news."

"Tell her to keep fighting," Kara says, nodding. "Don't let the bastards take her away easy."

"I will, Lieutenant," Billy says, nodding to Lee, who nods back. Feeling like more a scumbag. Especially when Kara smiles and links arms with him, a big shit-eating grin on her face.

"Maybe she'll live until the election after all," Kara says cheerfully. "And your brilliant plan of the Roslin/Adama ticket will work out. President Apollo of the Twelve Colonies. Can I be your VP?"

"Kara," Lee says disapprovingly.

"Sorry. I know your heart's set on Zarek, despite the assassination attempt. Maybe you could ask Tigh," Kara teases.

"Yeah, or maybe my dad would be happy to be my VP. Frak, Kara, be sensible," Lee says, sounding more serious than he means to.

"I'm just kidding," Kara says, snorting. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

"Nothing. I just don't think we should joke about this," Lee lies.

"Okay," Kara replies, giving him a sarcastic salute. "You are SO uptight when it comes to your beloved president. If I didn't know better, I'd be jealllllllous."

He forces himself to smile and start tickling her. Kara shrieks and starts fighting back.

"Lee has a cru-ush on Tea-cher! Lee has a cru-ush on Tea-cher!" Kara taunts, scrambling away. "He's her special boy..."

Lee shudders and tries to keep up the play. But in the back of his mind, now he's wondering. What is going on? And what happens if...?

* * *

  


Laura knows that her bloodwork is unusual when Cottle doesn't have a gruff witticism for her upon his return to her bedside.

"Get undressed," he orders. "You need one hell of a once-over."

Her heart beats faster. "Is it bad?" she asks.

Cottle shakes his head. "Not bad. Just impossible," he says, already giving her the eye. "You've had your Cylon test already, right?"

"Of course I have," Laura replies, affronted. "Not that I consider that one hundred percent reliable, considering Gaius Baltar's actions and loyalties."

"They're good enough when he's not hiding results," Cottle says, shaking his head. "You enjoy being difficult, don't you, young lady?"

Hope starts to burn in Laura's heart. It's immediately followed by a gush of terror that hits her in the gut. If she's going to live, what does that mean concerning Pythia? Did Baltar know more than he let on concerning her false prophethood?

And good gods, what is she going to say to Lee if she's not dying after all?

"I don't have an explanation for you, Doc. Unlike the Cylons, I don't believe love can stop cancer," Laura says, stripping off her clothes nonchalantly. Cottle has seen her naked often enough that it doesn't phase her, until he says,

"First we're doing a pelvic exam. Don't argue."

She rolls her eyes and mutely submits, feeling that she's suffering more than she deserves for doing something good for once.

They go through everything. Laura feels remarkably sanguine through the whole process, and it doesn't hurt, the way Cottle's prodding has for the last month or so. Her skin feels less delicate somehow, not nearly as brittle and nerve-damaged.

"So," Cottle says after poking every square inch of her mostly naked body and grunting occasionally. "The only interesting thing you've done in the last three days, according to you, is have sexual intercourse. Want to rephrase that bet about love fixing cancer?"

"I'm not in remission," Laura says, shocked. "You can't be serious."

"Not yet," Cottle says. "But come back in a week, and I might upgrade 'good day, bad equipment' to 'miraculous remission.' How's your appetite?"

She hasn't thought about it. And now -- "Actually, I'm really hungry all of a sudden," Laura admits, realizing that her stomach is grumbling with near-starvation. "And thirsty."

"We'll feed you," Cottle says. "And then you're going to tell me who it was."

"Why?" asks Laura, still affronted at the way he's focused on the sex, which was hardly sex at all and can't be the reason, either. "Sex doesn't cure cancer."

"Sex with a human, no. Sex with a Cylon?"

Laura glares, tired of the implications. "Lee Adama is not a Cylon," she growls at him. "Don't even suggest that."

"Let's hope not," Cottle says. "Because I don't know what'll piss the old man off more -- the fact you frakked his son, or the part where he's under suspicion for being a Cylon."

It's really not funny. Laura tries to laugh anyway.

* * *

  


"I think she's gained back five pounds in four days," Billy says the next day, in awe, to Commander Adama. "She has an incredibly voracious appetite, sir. Looks like her old self. Much more alert. Asking all kinds of questions."

"I've seen that much," Adama replies. "We had our weekly tea for the first time in a month, and she ate twice what I did. I want to know what she's been doing the last few days that's not a matter of public record."

"She had a real bad night, the night Lee was aboard Colonial One," Billy says, nodding. "He stayed overnight. We thought she wouldn't last the next day, honestly."

Adama nods, troubled. "Lee stayed aboard that night?" he asks.

"Yes, sir. The whole night. Left right before I went on duty. That was the night she got those bruises on her jaw, and the one on her forearm," Billy says.

"No wonder..." and Adama chuckles, remembering Tigh's angry request to knock Kara silly, and the sour-looking pilots the next day. "At least Kara forgave him."

"Well, sir, if you'd seen the president that night, you wouldn't have left, either," Billy says. "She woke up that morning, after Lee left, and she was a little better. Kept down all the fluids we gave her. Got a nap without any of the drugs. Took a half-dose of her painkiller at bedtime."

"Interesting," Adama says. "Thank you, Billy. Keep in touch, and tell the president that we're all praying for her safety."

"So say we all," Billy replies, nodding and standing up.

Dee is waiting in the corridor for a kiss.

"Hey, stranger," she says. "How's my secret agent lover man?"

"Not sure whether to be happy or freaked," he admits. "Dee, I think she's getting better."

"You didn't tell him...well, about Lee?" Dee asks, looking at him suspiciously. "That's not something the old man needs to know. He won't take it well."

"I told him he stayed the night, that's all," Billy says, gulping. He can just imagine what Adama would have said if he'd added the rest, about how he'd walked past and seen...what he'd seen.

"Good," Dee says briefly. "So, how much longer before you have to go back to Colonial One?"

"I've got an hour," Billy says.

"Even better," Dee says, smiling and seizing him by the tie. Let's blow this popsicle stand and get a little us-time in, okay?"

Sounds like a plan to him.

* * *

  


There's something up with Lee. Kara recognizes the signals. He should be the happiest guy in the world, what with President Roslin's temporary recovery. Instead he keeps looking distracted, not talking about it, and trying to cover for himself.

"You suck at lying, Apollo," Kara finally tells him after a session of sex in the showers that should have been hot as hell, given how hard Lee's going at her these days, but actually kind of felt faked and forced on his end. "What's got you crazy?"

"The usual. Trying to find Earth while being chased by murderous robots. The election. Wondering how it is Laura keeps doing better," he answers, toweling off. This gives Kara an excellent view not only of Lee's arms, but an opportunity to seize his other towel and ogle his ass before giving it a hearty slap.

"Laura, huh?" she asks. "When did you and the prez get all first-name-y? I thought it was Madam President and Captain Apollo," Kara says.

"Give me my towel," Lee says.

"Give me a kiss," Kara replies.

He pecks her on the forehead and tries to grab the towel.

"Real kiss!" Kara says, sticking her lower lip out in a grotesque pout imitation.

"Frak's sake, Kara, don't be childish," Lee says, sounding like he's about six.

"Now you don't get it back at all," Kara says, hiding the towel behind her back. "Childish, huh? I'll show you childish."

He snorts, and uses his other towel, turning his back on Kara, who is now even more irritated. He's clearly in a mood about something, and now he's ignoring her when they're having fun.

"What? Were you hoping she'd die?" Kara says. "I thought you'd be real happy to hear that the president might live."

Lee sighs. "I am happy," he says in the most stressed voice of all time. "Sorry. Just got things on my mind, Kara. Do you mind if I break our date for this afternoon?"

"With you being all depresso-guy?" Kara asks. "Not really, no. Cheer up, okay? Things are finally looking up for us."

Lee doesn't look convinced as he heads for his clothes and away from Kara. Kara sighs, and decides that some nuggets have kept far too much of her money for far too long, and need some schooling.

Definitely.

* * *

  


"How do you feel?" Lee asks her, as Laura takes a long drink of ice-cold water. It tastes refreshing. Everything tastes better.

Even though right now, she's got an IV stuck in her hand because she's overdone it, and got a lecture from Cottle about how a good few days doesn't mean to go racing around trying to engage Cylons in single combat. Depleted electrolytes, or something.

"Like I might live," Laura admits.

"Any medical reason for that?"

Laura shrugs, forcing herself to seem normal. It wouldn't do anyone any good to air Cottle's suspicions about Lee's humanity, or her own. At least, not where anyone on Colonial One not Lee or Laura can hear.

"Maybe I get one more miracle for uncovering Baltar's true loyalties," she says, trying to sound amused. But then she catches a glimpse of Lee's eye and is forced to grimace. "I have no idea. I wish I did."

"Cottle have any suggestions?"

"None I'm entertaining," Laura replies, gesturing with her free hand to indicate the walls have ears. She's been well aware that Billy is reporting to Adama on her, and if she keeps improving, there will have to be a talk about that.

Lee's a smart boy, and he grimaces. "Understandable," he says. "That's not a test I have much faith in."

"No," Laura agrees. "Nonetheless, the lack of an explanation presents its own difficulties whether this is a temporary aberration or a long-term one."

She points at her table. Lee notes the pen and paper and brings them to her, while saying with studied calm, "Let's hope for the best and prepare for the worst, Madam President."

"Always the wisest course," Laura agrees, taking the pen and writing _I need to see you alone IMMEDIATELY. Can you get a Raptor?_ before handing him the note. "I'm simply grateful to be keeping food down again. It was a horrible thing, not to eat."

"I can't imagine," Lee says, nodding. He takes the pen from her and writes TOMORROW across the bottom of the paper before tearing it in three and sticking it in his pocket. "I'm glad to see you're doing better."

She smiles at him radiantly, and Lee suddenly forgets that he feels guilty about Kara. It's good to have Laura looking better, and he can't deny that he almost wishes it were safe to kiss her on the cheek.

But there is Kara, and neither of them is so selfish to do anything until the situation is sorted and settled. They're both good people. Honorable people. And what they did was not a mistake.

At least, that's what Lee tells himself as he leaves, thinking about kissing Laura and knowing that he will have sex with Kara later.

* * *

  
Dee notices that Lee's requisitioned a Raptor for the afternoon, and pulls him aside in the corridor on his way to the flight deck, her mind buzzing.

"Sir, I noticed you're headed to Colonial One this afternoon. Why the Raptor?" Dee asks.

"The president has requested that I bring one," Lee says. "She feels she needs to bring herself up to speed on the fleet and to re-establish her presence."

Dee's no dummy, and knowing what Billy told her about the covert liaison between Apollo and the president, the doublespeak sends up all kinds of worrying signals.

"Sir," Dee says, pushing Lee against a wall with one hand. "Are you sure that's wise, given that we're not sure how long the president's recovery will last?"

"That's no reason not to accommodate a presidential request," Lee replies blandly. "What do you want to know, Dee?"

"What's so important that the two of you are taking off to get away from Galactica AND Colonial One?" Dee asks bluntly.

"I'm afraid that's none of your business, Petty Officer Dualla," Lee says crisply. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

He walks away, and Dee stares after him, unsure of what to do. If she goes to Adama, and the old man's feeling benevolent toward the president, he may not see anything amiss with the request. Unless she tells him about what Billy saw. Which will get Billy in trouble.

And it's not like it's horrible, Lee and the president wanting to be alone to discuss what they did, but Dee can't shake the nagging feeling it's more serious than the night they spent together. That makes sense; everyone was sure she was going to die. It changes the actions from cheating to something bittersweet.

"Something on your mind, Dee?" Gaeta asks, making Dee jump. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Dee says. "Just thinking about a potential dilemma."

"This about Captain Adama's request for a Raptor?" Gaeta asks. "I was going to see why he wants one."

"Presidential request," Dee says glibly. "I just asked."

Gaeta nods. "I imagine, what with her getting better, she'd want to see how affairs stand in the fleet," he says politely, but with just enough curiosity to let Dee know he's listening.

"Something about seeing how affairs stand, definitely," Dee says. "So it didn't rub you the right way, either? Lee asking for a Raptor, I mean."

"Seems a little much for a visit to Colonial One," Gaeta says. "But now that you explained it was for the president...well, Captain Adama is very devoted to the Colonial government."

"Gaeta, are you going to be polite all afternoon or are you going to ask me a question?" Dee asks, feeling exasperated. Gaeta sighs, and drops his head close to Dee's.

"All right," Gaeta says, very quietly. "So what's going on between Apollo and Roslin? Are they planning some new intrigue?"

"I don't know," Dee says miserably. "Billy's supposed to keep an eye on Colonial One for us, but I think the president knows."

Gaeta nods. "You think Lee told her?" he asks.

"Lee doesn't know," says Dee, noting Gaeta's shock. "Can you blame the old man?"

"I think you were right to be suspicious," Gaeta says. "There are some unusual things going on around here."

Dee laughs. "Like there aren't always?" she asks.

"Yeah, but this one doesn't smell right," Gaeta says. "You planning on going to Adama with this, or shall I?"

"We'll go together," Dee says, pleased that her problem is solved. Two officers with bad feelings means that Billy doesn't have to get involved, and that means everyone wins. "Now."

* * *

  


"We have to visit a ship," Lee says as soon as they're away. "Any one you want, but that's how I got Galactica off our ass, and I think we're in trouble anyway."

Laura nods patiently. "What happened?"

"Dee pulled me aside in the corridor," Lee says. "I think she knows something more than she's telling."

"Oh," says Laura, eyes wide. "Well, you do know that Billy is reporting my health and actions to your father, right? Has been since we broke out of the brig."

Lee shakes his head. "I didn't know that," he says. "Which means that my father doesn't want me to know that."

He looks hurt, and Laura sighs. "I'm sorry, Captain," she says. "Perhaps the only people who are supposed to know are Billy and Adama. Maybe Billy's not supposed to tell Dualla."

"Or maybe my father doesn't trust me with you," Lee says bitterly. "Which means we really shouldn't be out here right now. It's only cementing Galactica's wrongheaded notions that we're up to evil again."

The president laughs and tilts her head back, closing her eyes. "Maybe not so wrongheaded," she says. "The reason I asked you to come out here was because Cottle thinks one of us might be a Cylon."

"I guessed that much," Lee says. "So what do we do about it? Hold a press conference where we show our matching bruises from the needle and announce, proudly, that we're not Cylons?"

"And then we can follow it up with our engagement," Laura says coldly, "Let's not lose our heads, Captain Apollo. Our situation has changed a great deal over the last six days, both personally and politically. My expiration date seems to have a new flexibility, though I would think you of all people can realize I'm not out of the woods yet."

She shows off another new bruise on her arm, and Lee's heart breaks a little. "Right," he says gruffly. "But this means the plan of staying on the ballot is tenable."

"The deadline for removing myself is next week. I think, barring an unforeseen death, we should go ahead and stay on the ballot, with the publicly noted change of vice president," Laura says. "However, I think we should both privately have ourselves tested for the Cylon trait. Just in case, and to make sure if the accusations surface, it's on record that neither of us resisted testing."

"Should we tell my father?" Lee asks.

"I can't decide," Laura says. "It compromises Billy, and I think I'd like to make Mr. Kekeiya learn what it means to spy on one's president, even for a good cause. Also, the security situation on Galactica seems rather porous."

The wireless buzzes then, harsh and amelodic. "Apollo, get your ass on the line," Tigh says. "Where the frak are you with a Raptor? And is that woman with you?"

Laura groans with the disappointment of someone proved right as Lee picks up the receiver. "Right here, sir," Lee says. "The president and I are deciding which vessel will host a surprise inspection, if Galactica approves, sir."

"Whyinhell does that woman want to surprise inspect a damn thing?" Tigh asks. "The commander's asked that you two return to Galactica, immediately. He'd like to discuss using resources wisely."

"Tell the commander we'd be glad to," Laura says, leaning over Lee. "Give him my apologies -- I've been a little stir-crazy on Colonial One these days."

"Understood. Get your asses back here," Tigh says. "Galactica out."

"Frak," Lee snarls, throwing the receiver at the speaker. "So, new plan of attack?"

"We tell him we were discussing how best to handle our relationship in light of our illicit liaison," Laura says. "We do not tell him a thing about the Cylon suspicion, or about the vice-presidency. That is an order, Captain, so don't argue with me."

"I didn't plan to," Lee says. "Gods frak damn it. What about Billy?"

"Next time he'll learn to keep his mouth shut in the bedroom," Laura says icily. "Your father won't tell Lieutenant Thrace, if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't want to hurt her if I don't have to," Lee says. "And I think there are better ways to tell Kara than while I'm being dragged back to the brig for another round of mutiny charges."

"I understand," Laura says, sounding quite a bit less irritated. "My apologies, Captain Apollo. I've hardly had time to think about our personal relationship in light of all the rumor, innuendo, and intrigue flying around."

"And if one of us is a Cylon sleeper agent?" he asks.

"Then I hope the other will do the honors at the presidentially-ordered airlock evacuation," Laura says, looking at the looming battlestar with tired, uneasy eyes.

There isn't much left to say after that.

* * *

  


He's waiting for them when the Raptor lands. The flight deck is deserted, and there aren't Marines waiting to arrest them, so Laura breathes a quick prayer of relief.

Bill is looking remarkably dyspeptic, though, and so she doesn't smile. "Commander Adama," is what Laura says. "My apologies for borrowing your equipment without leave."

"What the frak are you two doing?" he asks. "What was going through your mind?"

"We needed a place to talk that wasn't going to be covered with spies," Laura says, raising her chin defiantly. "If you get my meaning, Commander, and I'm sure you do."

Bill's chest puffs out. "Aren't you being slightly dramatic? I'd hardly call asking Billy about your health spying on you," he says. "Especially given your marked reluctance to talk to me on matters more personal than the weather."

"Bill, not today," Laura says. "I thought we came to an agreement at our last tea about our friendship."

Lee looks like he wants to sink through the floor. Laura doesn't blame him; it's hard to talk to Bill without treating Lee like an inferior, as much as she prefers not to.

"That was before you went back to your favorite methods of subversion," Adama says, giving Lee a significant look. "I must request you immediately tell me what you two were talking about."

"Dad," Lee says. "It's not that important."

"Important enough to want a Raptor for the afternoon, where no one else could hear," Bill replies. "So what was it, Madam President? Captain Adama?"

"Do I have your assurance that this discussion will stay between the three of us?" Laura asks. "It's a very personal matter, and I don't think a flight deck is the best place to discuss it."

"Treason's not personal," Bill says.

"Sex is," Laura replies. "Or is that too unclear of a hint for you, Commander?"

Laura, having had to deal with months of Bill's high-handed attempts to soothe the little woman, takes an unaccountable amount of pleasure from watching both father and son look away and blush.

"Of course, Madam President," he finally says. "My office, then."

Of course, the minute the door closes to Bill Adama's office, the embarrassment on the Adama men's sides has turned into anger, and a burning desire to make sure the blame doesn't stick.

"You cheated on Kara?" is what Bill says. "What were you thinking?"

"Someone I loved was going to die," Lee answers. "And that I wanted that memory because things would have been much, much different if she weren't."

Laura keeps her mouth shut, though it does rekindle all the hope that she's been ruthlessly butchering right up. Gods, she's simply gone on this man whenever she lets herself lose even the smallest bit of control.

"And you went out in a Raptor alone to do what, exactly?" Bill asks, rounding on Laura.

"Discuss what happens next," Laura says. "Obviously, the situation has changed, and with Colonial One's insecurity, we didn't want to get into a situation that was further compromised. We don't want to hurt anyone, Bill, least of all Kara. I didn't want to tell you, especially if nothing came of it."

"That's supposed to make me feel better, knowing you willingly kept me in the dark?" he asks. "And planned to keep doing so?"

"Would you rather I went up to you and Kara Thrace...and maybe the Tighs, and announced it to the whole ship?" Laura replies acidly. "Be reasonable, Bill. I'm sure you understand exactly why we went out alone."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Bill says, turning back to Lee. "Are you going to tell Kara?"

"I don't think I have much choice, do I, sir?" Lee replies. "Will you give me three days? So at the very least, I can break her heart knowing what my next step's going to be?"

Three days. Enough time to run the Cylon detection tests, though now Laura's going to have to rely on Cottle's discretion, as well as that Lieutenant Gaeta who runs the project. And gods know how they will slip Lee through.

It's worth the risk. It's got to be done. Even if it's killing her to even think about the complications.

* * *

  


"You think that Cylon technology could be passed to human carriers, Madam President?" Gaeta repeats, furrowing his brow.

"I think that in this extraordinary circumstance, I'm so pressed for an explanation that I will consider sabotage," Laura replies. "Do you think it can be done?"

"I think I can try, using the current system, but I don't know if it will turn up anything conclusive, or even if it would look different than a normal positive for a Cylon," Gaeta says. "Haven't you already been tested twice?"

"Yes, I have been," says Laura. "Which is why I think if this test comes up positive, we'll have to re-engineer the test. Do you have a problem with doing that?"

"No, sir," Gaeta says. "I just think we're chasing straws."

"And best case scenario, these two tests will prove you exactly right," Laura says, trying to look as calm and in control as she does not feel. "But really, what are the chances?"

It's playing along with her public image, she repeats to herself. She's viewed as slightly eccentric in her opinions concerning medicine and science. She may even been slightly eccentric concerning medicine. It doesn't change the facts where she is going to get the tests done on herself and Captain Apollo before the old man's self-imposed deadline comes into play and things get an order of magnitude worse.

"Two tests?"

"Yes, two. I was thinking myself and Captain Adama, just so we can have a control," Laura says. "After all, Lee's one of the few people in this fleet I'm one hundred percent sure isn't a Cylon."

Gaeta nods. "True enough, sir," he says. "And I have his sample on file -- in fact, he just put in a new one yesterday. We can have them both done in two days."

"Excellent, Lieutenant," Laura says. "Thank you so much for your help. And you'll let me know when the tests are done?"

"Yes, sir," Gaeta says. He's so helpful, and Laura suddenly gets the feeling it's his job to be helpful.

Damn it, she should have made the request through Cottle. For all that he's a gruff old bastard, he understands the need for discretion. And this is all academic anyway; the idea of Lee being a Cylon is so ridiculous that Laura's mind keeps rejecting it out of hand.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll be in touch," she says, leaving the land and running smack-dab into Kara Thrace.

"Hey," says Kara, a smile passing over her face. "You're looking better every day, huh?"

"I suppose so," Laura answer, pushing her hair out of her face and smiling. "How are you, Lieutenant?"

"Doing all right. Lee's been so moody lately," Kara admits. "He was worried about you, and didn't want to admit it, and he was so scared to hope, you know?"

"I can understand that," Laura says, chuckling ruefully. "I still can't quite bring myself to use the r-word."

"R-word?" Kara asks.

"Remission," Laura says. "I keep thinking that it's too good to be true."

"Well, Madam President, if anyone deserves too good to be true, it's you," Kara says. "I mean, hey. I thought you were a schoolteacher in over her head at first, but you know, listening to the way Lee talks about you...I've come around."

Kara is not trying to make Laura feel guilty; she knows this. But every word, every honest and open smile, twists the knife a little deeper inside the woman. After all, what right does she have to Lee? Kara loves him. Kara will have decades to love him.

Laura isn't even sure it's remission yet. And she's half-convinced one of them is a Cylon because of it.

"That's good to hear, Lieutenant," Laura says. "Maybe that's how I'll win the electorate. Have Lee talk about me."

"Worse plans have been floated," Kara answers. "Hey, you looking for Captain Ditchwad? He's just off his patrol."

"No, I was just talking to Lieutenant Gaeta about a few tests I want done. You know, leave no alternative available for the debates," Laura lies fluently, because it's partially true. She's just leaving out the better part, that Kara's Captain Ditchwad may be a Cylon sleeper.

"That's why you're the politician," Kara says with a generous shrug. "I'll tell him you said hi, okay? Take care of yourself."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Laura replies, nodding as the two part.

* * *

  


In fact, Lee finds Billy before he runs across either Kara or Laura. Billy is on his own, probably waiting for Dee, and when Lee sees him, he holds back the desire to punch the guy.

"Hey, Billy," he says. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure," Billy says. "Are you looking for the president?"

"Nope," Lee says, closing in on Billy with a smile. "I'm definitely looking for you."

Billy swallows. "Frak," he says. "I don't know what you think you know, but I don't think you're in a position to judge."

"When did my father ask you to keep an eye on the president? And why, in the name of all the gods, did you tell Dee about it?" Lee asks, pinning Billy in place against the wall. "I never thought you were a dumb guy, Billy."

"I'm trying to protect her," Billy says fervently. "And I think you don't get how fragile the president is when she's not well. I didn't do it to spy. And I didn't tell him everything. I could have told your father about how you..."

And now Lee knows how Dee knew. "Yeah, thanks," he says. "You could have warned the president you knew about that."

"I didn't...look, I'm trying to do my best here," Billy says, squirming. "Your father didn't need to know. I asked Dee because there are some things that should stay private, aren't there? Get off my back, sir. You're the one making things worse. Don't you get that when you and the president have secret meetings, Galactica gets damn nervous?"

"Are you trying to tell me that even now, my father doesn't trust the president with me?" Lee asks, trying to sound angry. He is angry, but not with Billy. "What are we going to do, take over the world illegally when we can legally do it in a month?"

Billy shrugs. "The last time, you got a third of the fleet to go to Kobol with you," he points out. "Gods only know what you two could manage if you felt it was necessary."

Lee snorts, lets go of Billy and shakes his head. "And you're protecting the president, huh? From what, herself?"

"If that's what I need to do," Billy says, clearly not regretting a thing. "I serve the Twelve Colonies. Not President Roslin herself."

Leaving that to rankle, Billy leaves, and Lee wonders when everyone, even the nice guys, became such frakking jerks.

* * *

  


Both tests come back positive.

Almost positive.

Sort of positive.

Gaeta has never understood the phrase "a little pregnant" before, but after staring for an hour at the test results for both the President and the CAG, he is beginning to get it in the worst possible way.

It can't be right. The traits that come up positive on Roslin's are absolutely different from the two other tests, and this is the thing. Baltar didn't alter test results. He just lied about them. Sharon Valerii's original test? Positive. The blonde with Baltar? Positive.

And they were solid positives, not the weird positives that Gaeta has now. Then again, these are among the very first tests Gaeta's run on his own since Baltar was left with the Cylons. He doesn't know what they mean. Maybe he did them wrong.

But Gaeta's got a gut feeling: there's something wrong with these tests and it's not going to do any good to broadcast the results now. He needs more information immediately, and he has two sources: Cottle and, well...Boomer.

"Why do you need the president's medical records?" Cottle asks when Gaeta makes the request.

"She asked me to run the Cylon test," Gaeta says. "It'll be the first time since Baltar left, so I'd like to try multiple samples."

"Roslin put you up to this, didn't she?" Cottle snorts. "Even the way you're asking is pure Roslin. Tell the president to run her requests through me next time."

"Yes, sir," Gaeta says. "While I'm at it, I might as well confess that we're doing a control test."

"On who?" Cottle asks.

"Captain Adama," Gaeta says, and is surprised to see Cottle look rather discomfited. "Sir?"

"She told you that was a control?" Cottle asks. "You've got to be frakking me, son."

The world sort of bottoms out in Gaeta's head. The idea that Lee Adama, of all people, could be a Cylon, and that the president was using him to find out covertly is...highly unlikely.

"Why would the president think her closest advisor was a Cylon, sir? If I might ask," Gaeta says, wondering if it's too late to go to Commander Adama and confess everything before Lee does something dangerous.

"I don't think that woman thinks he's a Cylon," Cottle says. "She's trying to find a reason why she's not dead, and I suggested sex with a Cylon might do it. Didn't expect her to take me seriously, but I didn't believe she'd actually gone and **really** frakked the kid. Gods, I hope I have that much stamina when I'm on death's doorstep."

Gaeta knows his mouth is hanging open, but he's not able to pull his jaw up. Well, that would explain the Raptor. Frak. Especially if Roslin knew about Billy's deal with Commander Adama. He wouldn't want to discuss the possibility he was a Cylon in public, either. Especially given the new and disturbing idea that Cylon traits could somehow pass with intimate contact.

"I still need the records," Gaeta says. "If that's all right with you, sir."

"Go ahead. And when you prove that woman's crazy, maybe she'll listen to you better than me," Cottle said, fumbling for a cigarette. "Control. Frak, that's crafty. Maybe they are serious about stuffing Lee into that vice-presidential vacancy."

* * *

  


"Lee, for gods' sake, get her off the ship," one of the staffers begs as Lee enters the very noisy nerve center on Colonial One. "I'm starting to think the gods overdid the miracle."

"Back in the saddle?" asks Lee, trying to be humorous.

"Zarek is here," the staffer says, handing him a briefing. "He's demanding the vice-presidential spot, and he wants to know why she's stonewalling the press with an official announcement about her remission."

Lee rolls his eyes. "Just because Zarek's popularity depends on a sycophantic press organ doesn't mean that the Roslin Administration feels the need to make an announcement every time the president **doesn't** faint," he says. "And you can take that to his press if they're bothering you, ah..."

"Peggy, sir," the staffer says.

"Peggy," Lee says. "Thanks for the update."

"Tom, for the love of all Twelve Colonies, kindly don't try to force my hand on anything," Laura shouts, the ruins of a large meal on the table. Lee takes that as a good sign -- her appetite has been something everyone's noticed and cheered on -- and doesn't mind the view of the mostly cowed Zarek partisans as they all turn to look at him. "What now -- Captain Apollo, about damn time."

Peggy clearly isn't kidding about the energy levels. "Madam President," Lee says, just a little archly. "Mr. Zarek. Sorry to interrupt."

"You haven't interrupted anything," Laura says. "Mr. Zarek was advising me about the fitness of my choices for vice-presidential candidates, and possible conflicts between military and civilian duties."

"Well, if Gaius Baltar could find the time to have sex with his imaginary Cylon angel and a third of the women in the fleet, run the Cylon detection program, have three breakdowns a day, and still manage to nearly overthrow the fleet, I think I can manage being CAG and VP," Lee says. "It's the initials that are starting to drag, that's all."

The room breaks into a low rumble of approving laughter, and Lee feels suddenly energized. The press occasionally accuses them of rehearsing these moments -- Playa once begged him to admit it, because otherwise it was synergy, and the press could NOT resist synergy.

"Now, if you will excuse me, our vice-president apparent and I need to discuss our strategies..." Laura begins, but one of Zarek's rowdier henchman can't resist yelling:

"To what? Tell the old man you've been out cradle-robbing again? Or about how you're going to fit another meal in before dinner?" and even Zarek looks a little shocked, but Laura manages to laugh.

"I'm very hungry, Mr. Neels," she says boisterously. "Or do you begrudge your president a little extra in her time of need?"

She manages to get rid of them despite the hoots of laughter that result, and to Lee's surprise, an expression of elated delight meets him when she finishes assuring Zarek he will be the very very extra-super first to know if her condition changes.

"Gods, we have timing," the president says. "I feel better than I have in ages. Do you believe Zarek's people? Scheming opportunists, every last one of them, out to score points. I will frakking bury that idiot if he tries to use you against me."

"Are you feeling all right?" asks Lee, which apparently is the wrong question to ask.

"I. Am. FINE," Laura says. "Is there some reason that an excess of good spirits in the president causes everyone to feel the need to ask?"

She exhales and sits down, stretching her legs out with an indulgent little smile. Lee sits down next to her, bumping into her leg slightly as he does.

"Good spirits? I'd say that was a downright giddy presidential demeanor," Lee teases. "Not to mention a little...aggressive."

Laura snorts. "You're the one who has commenced with vice-presidential footsie," she points out. "How are things on Galactica? And what did you say to Billy? He came back to Colonial One and apologized profusely for ever spying on me, and told me that he was trying to prevent any division in the fleet."

"Galactica's fairly calm, and I didn't say anything to Billy," says Lee. "My father is going to throw a fit when he hears I've thrown my hat in the ring without his express permission, of course."

"And of course that has nothing to do with his peremptory decisions regarding you recently," Laura says, the merriment draining out of her voice even as she spots another bottle of water and seizes on it, along with the remaining grapes on her demolished plate from earlier.

"No, Madam President, certainly not," Lee replies. "Have you heard anything from Cottle or Lieutenant Gaeta?"

"I have not," says Laura. "Which leads me to believe that Gaeta is reporting to your father about the tests."

Lee nods. Thinks. "Why aren't we telling my father everything?" he asks. "What are we supposedly hiding again?"

Laura pauses. "I think that we had a liaison, one of us could be a Cylon, and we're unconvinced that my rapid recovery is natural, but any of this said in the wrong place at the wrong time could set off another round of shrill political discord in the many places around the fleet where the Roslin/Apollo dog-and-pony show are unpopular for being good at what we do," she says, and she says it fast, like this is something they both should know.

"So you don't trust my father to keep his fat mouth shut any more than he trusts you not to plot, plan, and probably seduce me to your diabolical side," Lee says, feeling humorous rather than bitter about it for once.

"QED, Captain Apollo," says Laura comfortably. "He can't keep his mouth shut, and I can't keep my hands off you. A little caution is justified under the circumstances."

Something in Lee does a shuddery flip-flop. He hasn't made any promises yet; he hasn't even told Kara yet. "Can't keep your hands off me?" he says.

"Symbolically speaking, Captain," Laura says primly. "Though I suppose that now's as good a time as any to..."

Billy rushes in, spoiling the moment yet again, even though it's a tense moment and Lee's not sure what the next words out of Laura's mouth were supposed to me. "Madam President," he says. "Commander Adama is on the phone. He says that you need to discuss something NOW."

"Now, now, now," Laura says, still boisterous. "Tell Bill that I am on my way and that I am still a very ill woman who does not need to be bullied."

She's practically skipping to the fight. Lee, after an open-mouthed gape after the new and improved president, starts to worry, just a little, about what he's gotten himself into.

* * *

  


"You clearly know SOMETHING about Cylon technology," Gaeta says, ready to leap through the Plexiglas and throttle Sharon Valerii.

"Yes, I know a great deal about Cylon military equipment and mechanical engineering," Boomer says. "If you hadn't noticed, my model tends to be soldiers, engineers, and great Girl Fridays. Maybe some of my sisters do medical, but you're looking at a pilot who knows how Cylon bombs blow shit up, Gaeta, not the Six who was advising Baltar."

She's slipped. The official Cylon line, such as it exists, is there was no Cylon advising Baltar. Gaeta tucks that away for later reference.

"Do you know why you don't immediately recognize other humano-Cylon models, even though you've got a buzz for the tech?" Gaeta asks, trying to sound a little more chummy. Sharon -- Boomer -- is notoriously difficult to interview. She doesn't like being pressed for answers, and after a while, she gets "bored" and stops talking at all.

"What are you talking about? I recognized both Cylons you people have put in my face. Think I missed one or something?" Sharon asks, giving Gaeta the once-over. "Who's on the block? It must be someone pretty big."

"I have a test result I can't explain. Two known non-Cylons have false positives," Gaeta says.

"You tell the old man about that?" Sharon asks sagely.

"Of course. But he's not going to put them on the block just yet," Gaeta lies, feeling like he's stumbling over his word. Sharon tilts her head and puts her hand on her swollen belly.

"I wouldn't think President Roslin thinks much of that. Or is she dead already?" Sharon asks.

Gaeta shakes his head. "She's doing better," he admits, and Sharon's eyes light up.

"That's interesting," she says. "She's your false positive, huh? Who's the other one? Adama? Starbuck?"

Gaeta snorts. Sharon chuckles. "I'm not at liberty," he begins.

"You're not even supposed to be telling me what you've told me, but you're all hellfire about this Cylon detector, ain'tcha?" Boomer asks. "Why should I help you, anyway? Maybe Roslin is a Cylon. Maybe I haven't told you because I want her to succeed. Maybe she's like me, on your side."

"You said that you think love made your pregnancy possible," Gaeta says, sidestepping all of Boomer's new and disturbing allegations. "Could emotional states and intimate contact be involved in human-Cylon physiological states?"

"Say it in simpler words, Gaeta," Boomer says.

"Could, ah, having sex with a Cylon heal a non-Cylon?" Gaeta asks, flushing.

Sharon begins to howl with laughter. "Who did your crazy president-prophet have sex with, and why do you think he's a Cylon? And why would you think we make our penises magic?" she asks between hearty chuckles.

"No would have been sufficient," Gaeta says.

"No, sex can't cure cancer, Gaeta," Boomer says. "Also, I hate to tell you this, but Pan doesn't put the presents under the altar on Genesis morning. That doesn't answer my question. What possessed you to ask a dumb question like that?"

Gaeta hums his answer into the receiver as quietly as he can. Boomer snorts.

"Talk louder, Gaeta," she says. He does, and then there's a loud whoop of a war-cry. Or maybe she's laughing.

"That's so sweet. A love story to tell my daughter," Boomer jeers. "Speaking of my daughter, when do I get to see Helo?"

The interview's over. Gaeta gets up, nods. "Tomorrow," he says.

"Always Helo tomorrow, and never Helo today," Boomer says, laying back down on her bunk. "I see how it goes."

* * *

  


"At least you know he's not a Cylon," Tigh tries to say as Adama slams the receiver to Colonial One down so hard that you can hear the springs squawk. "Just the vice-president-to-be."

"Damn it, damn her, and damn them," Bill says vehemently. "When did my son become such a..."

"Asshole?" Tigh supplies guilelessly.

"Politician," Bill says dourly.

"Same difference," Tigh replies. "And you know Apollo's been under that woman's spell since she first put her hooks in him. You're surprised that he's replacing Baltar on the ticket? At least she didn't choose the terrorist."

Adama's quarters reflect the foul mood he's been in since the president and his son's relentless scheming and private affairs have come to light. It's not that he's trashed the place, Tigh thinks, it's that he's let it go until a man can't tell the difference.

"At this point, better a terrorist than whatever she's turned Lee into," Bill says. "Cottle spoke to me this morning. Did you know she's worried that she's been healed by Cylons? Has Gaeta giving her -- and Lee -- another pass through the detection system."

"Gaeta tell you about it?" Tigh asks, cocking his head.

"No, he hasn't," Adama replies. Tigh snorts.

"She got to him, too," he says. "Just like old times, isn't it, Bill?"

"What's worse is that I don't think so, Saul," Bill admits. "I think what we have here is a case of subordinates knowing better than we do."

Tigh snorts. "That'll be the day."

"No, it makes sense. There are far too many personal ties between myself and Roslin, and among much of the fleet's upper leadership," Bill says. "And we tend to take the personal business worse than the professional ones. So I can see why the staff is trying to keep private business, on both sides, private."

"They're just no good at telling the frakking difference," Tigh says, leaning back in his chair. "Gonna call Gaeta in now?"

"No, I think I'll wait just a little longer, considering we're not in immediate danger," Adama replies. "However, I do want to see where he's been lately. Find out if you can, and report back to me, Saul."

Tigh nods. "Gods help him if he's on her side. I'll drag him in here so fast you'll see the boot mark on his ass, Bill," he promises.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Bill says. "The last thing this fleet needs it to revive the paranoid factionalism of Roslin versus Adama. Maybe that's why she chose him. To end the breach once and for all."

"Or maybe she likes him best," Tigh says, getting up with a shrug. "Who knows what that woman's thinking? Half the time it probably doesn't even make sense to her."

* * *

  


It's such a novelty to have more than enough energy that Laura doesn't realize at first how late she's stayed up, or that she's fidgeting like a bored child as she reads dozen of boring communiques that have been handled in her absence until Billy wanders into her cabin and looks surprised to see her awake.

"Do you know what time it is?" he asks hesitantly.

"Late," Laura says succinctly. "Do you check on me every night?"

He smiles sheepishly. "Habit," he admits. "During the really bad days, I got used to making sure you were all right."

"Thank you, Billy," she replies. "Gods, I've made a mess of things this time. I don't know how it happened."

"You had other plans," Billy says, sitting down across from her. "And then, stuff happened."

"In other words, I planned to be dead by now, and everything since then has been a glorious example of life?" Laura asks humorously. They both chuckle quietly. "That's no excuse for behaving as ridiculously as I have."

"Well," and Billy pauses. "You don't mind if I'm frank, ma'am?"

"Go ahead. Honesty will be refreshing after the days of half-truths and full lies," Laura says, gesturing slightly.

"I think it's about how you feel about Captain Apollo," he says, trying very hard not to blush. "Everything else has gotten messy because before it was really easy because you were going to die and so you could focus on the big picture, but now it's hard because you, um, love him."

She smiles at him fondly. He's such a sweetheart, is her Billy. "And now I have a personal life to worry about as well as a public life, and there's significant overlap?" Laura prompts.

"Yes, ma'am," Billy says, ducking his head. "And I think, um, you want him pretty bad, but you feel kind of guilty about it because you already work with him, and there's Starbuck, but you're not really doing a good job, uhhhh..."

Laura sighs. "In other words, I want him and damn the vice presidency, Lieutenant Thrace, and common sense," she says. "My sense of noble self-sacrifice is somewhere with my possibly averted death."

"Something like that," Billy says. "If it makes you feel better, I think you deserve to be happy. It's just damn inconvenient, Madam President."

Recalling her shouting match with Bill Adama on the topic of inconvenience, Laura starts to laugh. "Oh, Billy," she says, spluttering. "I...suddenly don't feel very well."

Billy is at her side fast, though not before Laura's last three meals are suddenly on the floor.

"I'll get the doc," he says, pulling her hair back. "Do you think you're going to faint?"

Laura shakes her head mutely as another spasm of nausea rattles her stomach.

Of course it was too good to be true, after all.

* * *

  


"So if you don't think we're Cylons, why are you putting us through this bogus frakking test?" Starbuck asks, leaning against the wall of the lab. Helo nods along with her, though he seems to be listening better than Starbuck.

Gaeta sighs. "Look. I have some potentially disturbing test results I want to check out," he says. "And I remember Baltar saying that it's possible that Cylon medical technology could queer a blood test. You've both been exposed to intimate contact with Cylons, so you're a way of testing that theory. After all, you don't want a test to come up with a false positive, do you?"

Starbuck flinches, and Helo keeps nodding thoughtfully. "Makes sense," he says to Starbuck. "Boomer never said anything like that, but it could happen."

"Boomer says your baby is a creation of love. She has a flawed idea of science," Starbuck replies snarkily. "All right, this is stupid, but we'll do it."

"Thank gods," Gaeta says. "And Helo's a perfect test subject for the sexual transmission theory I have going, even if Boomer did shoot me down."

Starbuck raises an eyebrow. "Who had sex with a Cylon?" she asks.

"Not at liberty to say," Gaeta replies, suddenly remembering that Kara is dating Lee and that's not something he wants to get involved in.

"Oh, come on, I want to give the dumbass a little grief for potentially frakking a Cylon," Starbuck pleads.

"Trust me, Lieutenant, I don't think you want to know, and it's not something I can talk about," Gaeta says uncomfortably, just as Tigh comes into the room.

"What in the hell are you up to now, Gaeta? I know that woman's got you running tests on her and her vp-to-be, but why are Starbuck and Helo here?" he asks.

"Sir, I..." and Gaeta backs away, because at any moment, Starbuck is going to put things together and he's going to be the one closest.

"Wait, WHAT?" Helo asks. "Why's the president got you running tests? And who's her vp-to-be? And I am getting more confused every second. I thought we were trying to clear up some false positives on Cylon tests, not some weird presidential errand."

"False WHAT?" Tigh bellows. "Lieutenant, did I just hear that right? You have positives on the tests and you didn't go right to Adama?"

"Lee slept with her," Starbuck says, her voice quiet but breaking through. "Oh, frak me, you think that sex can cure cancer? That's the dumbest frakking...he slept with her, didn't he?"

Tigh and Helo have both gone silent, and are staring at Gaeta with big eyes. Gaeta now hopes that an insane person comes into the room and shoots him. Or maybe there can be a Cylon attack. Anything so he doesn't have to answer.

"Oh, balls," Tigh mutters after Gaeta looks around the whole room for some reason not to answer. "This is the most fubared bullshit I've seen in a while. Do you think the tests are genuinely false positives? You're not just covering for the president?"

"I haven't told the president, sir," Gaeta replies. "They aren't like the other positives. And I think the theory that some sort of intimate contact -- maybe not sex, maybe something in the IV -- is involved. Which is why I wanted to see if there is a way to compare material from humans who have known Cylon contacts."

"I don't care about that," Starbuck says, her voice rising. "Give me a straight frakking answer, Gaeta!"

"I don't know!" Gaeta replies. "Frak, I don't know. I just want to make sure we're not at risk of Cylon infection here. That's why I talked to Boomer, that's why I've kept this sub rosa. The last thing I want to do is destabilize the government and the crew's confidence in Captain Adama because I frakked up running a test."

Helo nods like he gets it. Tigh and Kara look ready to jump down his throat, and Gaeta knows he's frakked, and he's probably taken the government down to boot.

* * *

  


It feels like Laura's lost her entire week of food, and her trepidation only builds when Cottle arrives, accompanied by Adama (looking like a vengeful Zeus) and two Marines.

"What is it?" she asks, looking up.

"Gaeta's test results are in," Adama says.

Oh. Apparently, they are not good results. Cottle gives Adama a funny look and stays a decent distance away from the nauseous, sweating president and the bucket Billy's found for her.

"What did you eat?" he asks. "You look like you killed a whole bottle of ambrosia by yourself."

The mention of food is apparently too much for Laura's rebellious stomach, and when she looks up again, one of the Marines has fled. Bill hasn't flinched.

"Apparently something doesn't agree with my Cylon physiology," she says weakly, positively green. "Or do you think I'm a clone of the original Laura Roslin? Clearly, Lieutenant Gaeta turned up a positive test result."

"Nobody's being hasty," Cottle says. "We'll need another sample."

"Fourth time's the charm," Laura says. Bill's still not talking, which means it's worse. "Did Lee's come up positive, too? Oh, gods, tell me that at least, I'm the Cylon and not him."

"That's not something you get to know," Bill says tightly. "Not until we're sure who and what you are."

"And while we're at it, we're going to see what's not agreeing with you," Cottle says, ignoring Bill's theatrics with admirable stoicism. "Way you've been eating, could be food poisoning. Or a good old fashioned attack of a stomach virus."

"Or worse," Laura croaks.

"Or worse, but let's not dismiss the simple solution just because you're fond of being difficult," Cottle says, patting her on the shoulder. "You gonna throw up again?"

Laura nods.

"All right, you go ahead and do that," he says. "Then we're going to start putting soda water into you before you get too dehydrated. You're definitely one that doesn't need to borrow trouble."

* * *

  


"Frak, Helo, come on," says Lee, pacing back and forth in the much-unlamented and completely not missed brig. "Tell me what the frak's going on. Why am I in the brig?"

"Man, I can't tell you that," Helo says. "I'm not even supposed to talk to you."

Lee snorts. "What, you think I'm a Cylon now?" he asks sarcastically.

Helo shifts. "Hey, look, I think this is shitty, but you've been acting like one shady-ass son of a bitch ever since you frakked the president," he says.

Lee can't quite believe that Helo, of all people, knows about that. Then again, if they've got him guarding Lee in the brig instead of a Marine, the number of people who think Lee is a Cylon is probably being kept to a minimum. Thank the gods.

"Yeah, well, tell that to my father for spying on her and keeping me out of the loop," Lee says petulantly. Helo chuckles.

"Apollo, look, I'm telling you how I see it," he says, shrugging and not letting go of his gun. "The old man's got his reasons for not trusting her. Plus there was the part where maybe he wanted to...well, that's just rumors, I won't get into it. But every time you do something wrong, it's always because of the president somehow. What's he going to think when you two go off to plot somewhere?"

"That presidents need privacy?" Lee asks dryly.

"See, that's just you being a dick again," Helo says. "Hey, you hear that maybe Cylons got magic dicks? At least, that's what Gaeta thinks, but you know, Gaeta thinks dick is magic in general..."

"Mr. Agathon, let's keep the gay jokes to a minimum," Lee says, interrupting Helo, who's always liked giving Gaeta crap about his taste in men. "Magic dick? You gotta be frakking with me."

"Well, you know, when someone goes from being a dead woman walking to the picture of health in a week, people are gonna talk, and you two dug yourself a pretty frakking amazing hole," Helo points out. "I mean, I say run with it. You got a magic dick. That's pretty neat."

Lee snorts and leans against the bars. "So how long before they shove me out an airlock?" he asks insouciantly. "The president promised to do the honors. If I get a last request, that's it."

Helo shifts uncomfortably again. "No one thinks you're really a Cylon, man," he says. "This is just for security. Also because this has the old man freaking the frak out."

"Right," Lee says. "Great. How much longer before we're done here?"

* * *

  


And this time, both tests come up negative, though all four samples are being run through some genetics grad student that Cottle dug up because he didn't have time for theoretical Cylon magic particles when people were sick.

Gaeta is keeping in touch. She's a nice Aquarian girl who thinks that humano-Cylon genetics is a useful and valuable specialty and they should discuss teaching a few more students together.

"You sure you did that one right?" Tigh asks curiously as Gaeta breathes a sigh of relief over all the green.

"Came up clean for both of them, plus Starbuck and Helo, who we already knew weren't Cylons," Gaeta says, feeling much put-upon. "I think given that this is the president's FOURTH test, we can safely say that Laura Roslin is not a Cylon."

"Just a pain in the ass," Tigh replies. "What on earth possessed you to agree to her request?"

"The order from Commander Adama to agree to most reasonable requests from the president," Gaeta says with a shrug. "It's a well-known fact that she has outlandish beliefs about modern medicine and science, so I thought I'd humor President Roslin. After all, wouldn't you be worried if you went from being hours away from death to not?"

"I'd be glad I cheated death, and damn the reasons," Tigh replies. Then again, the gods don't talk to me and they're not going to save my worthless hide."

Gaeta nods, more out of polite noncommittal than any conviction as he heads for the phone. He's assumed this policy is the best for dealing with Tigh.

"Dee?" he says. "Get in touch with Colonial One."

"Yes, sir," Dee says. "What are the test results?"

"I think I'll wait until I hear the old man on the other end of the line before I make an answer," Gaeta says, casting a glance at Tigh.

"Fair enough, sir," Dee says. "I have Billy on the other end of the line. He wants Galactica to know that the president is fine. She was the victim of bad food -- apparently Zarek's people brought over spoiled mayonnaise. Half their ship is sick."

"Good to know," Gaeta says. "Tell Billy I think I should speak to Commander Adama directly?"

"Got it," Dee says. "Sorry that you're in trouble."

"It's not your fault," says Gaeta.

"Yeah, it is," Dee says quietly. "I knew that the president and Lee had...um, done the deed. Which is why I was suspicious about Lee's Raptor. But I didn't want Billy to get in trouble for not telling Adama what he'd seen, so I...shit, sir, I'm really sorry."

Billy's been spying on the president for Adama. And Dee's been covering for what he doesn't say.

It all snaps together in Gaeta's head, what really happened. About why the tests came up the way they did, about the source of the cure for the president's cancer, even maybe why the Cylons did it.

"Gaeta?" Dee says in a small voice. "I have Commander Adama for you on the line."

"Thanks, Dee," Gaeta says, trying to maintain composure. "I'll talk to you later about things, all right? No need for the general lack of honesty on this boat to get between us."

* * *

  


Bill is actually smiling when he comes to deliver the news, closely followed by Billy. Cottle is preparing all the tests he can manage, because as he says, no sense in wasting time when he's got a captive audience.

Laura, who is pretty sure that she lost her toenails to Tom Zarek's culinary debacle, doesn't think it's very funny, but she doesn't have much choice except to listen. And when Bill and Billy come in, smiling and looking excited, it does seem to help with the weak, sweaty feeling she gets after a bad bout of stomach ailments.

"They're both negative," she ventures. Bill nods. "Oh, thank the gods."

"How are you feeling, Madam President?" Billy asks.

"Like I ate bad potato salad," Laura replies, reclining slightly and breathing very slowly as Cottle finishes stealing more of her blood. "Did that young man, Lieutenant Gaeta, have any explanation for why the false positive happened?"

"He says that he thinks you're on to something with the carrier theory," Bill says. "More than that, he didn't want to discuss over the phone. I think he's learned the value of keeping his mouth shut."

"Well, I didn't think that was so much the problem as being honest in our transactions," Laura replies, half-smiling.

"Let's say both were at stake," Bill replies with a downright friendliness. "I forget, sometimes, that there's a difference between personal and professional loyalty, or that our relationship has elements of both."

"We are terribly incestuous, aren't we?" Laura says. "It'll be a challenge to overcome after our landing, making better use of our human resources and not relying so heavily on nepotism."

"Says the woman who appoints **my son** to be her vice-presidential candidate," Bill says, and Laura is half-certain that he's teasing.

"Says the man who appoints his own son to be his CAG," Laura replies, not wanting to insult Billy openly. She does indeed believe he will be president someday, but it will take a decade of hard work (probably harder on Dee's part) to prepare him for the public side of the job. He'll be an ideal Chief of Staff for herself or for Lee, should the worst happen.

"Point taken," Bill says. "Do you want to come back to Galactica with me? I've heard you've been a bit stir-crazy on Colonial One, and I promise we won't poison you with the rations."

"That sounds like a good idea, if I'm fit to travel," Laura says, casting a glance at Cottle, who shrugs.

"You've ever listened to a bit of sound medical advice in your life?" he asks. "It'll keep you out of trouble, and I can run a scan and make a final determination about what the frak is wrong with you."

Laura shrugs. "It would appear the answer's yes," she says. "Let me clean up, and we can finally put all this suspicion and ill-will behind us, Bill."

"About damn time, too," Bill says.

"Isn't that what we said the last time?" she asks as he helps her to her feet.

"Yes, it is," Bill says. "This time, however, I think we have to live with the consequences."

Hope finally shatters through the very tight compartment of Laura's psyche where she's been keeping it bottled. She favors both Bill and Billy with a radiant smile, one that makes both of them smile back at her.

"I think I can live with those," she says, taking Billy's offered arm. "Just as long as I live."

* * *

  


One of his spare boots come whizzing past his head when Lee wearily opens the door to his rack, and catches him square in the shoulder.

"Kara!" he yelps. "Frak's sake!"

"Get the frak out of my room, you frakking son of motherfrakking cheating son of a whore!" Kara screams, throwing the other boot squarely at his groin. Lee misses that one, but he's going to have a hell of a bruise on his leg later from the dodge. "How dare you?"

He'd realized that Kara knew about Laura with the first boot, so he doesn't even try to play dumb. Now is not the time for denial.

"So you heard," he says. "Want to talk, or should I duck more blunt objects until you get -- ow!"

"Don't try to talk your way out of this, you cunt-rag assfrakker son of cocksucker," Kara snarls. "You frakked her, Lee. You cheated on me with the frakking President of the Twelve Colonies. What do we have to talk about? How big of an asshole you are for stringing me along? When you were going to tell me you were leaving me for her? How long you've been giving it to both of us? How great it was to finally bring down the big prize and how much better she is at it than me?"

Rumor has clearly turned everything into a much more sordid set of affairs. "It's not like that!" Lee shouts, putting up his hands in case Kara has another missile to launch.

It turns out, however, she's decided verbal warfare is much more satisfying than throwing plates and boots. Lee tentatively edges closer.

"So what is it like, Lee?" asks Kara, pacing back and forth, seething. "What the frak am I supposed to think? You run off to give the president one hell of a send-off and I'm not supposed to think you're not going to do it again now that she's ready, willing, and able? Cheaters cheat. Rule one-o-one of the duh handbook."

"Cheating? You think this is textbook, that I have a nefarious two-timing plan? I went to comfort the woman I love on her last night alive, on my girlfriend's orders, and I realize that if things had been different..." but Kara's face is already stone-cold and pale. Lee realizes, in horror, what he's just said.

The woman I love.

Frak. That was not what he'd meant to say to Kara.

"If things had been different, what?" asks Kara, looking ready to throw things again. "Don't you dare think you can weasel out of this. Say it."

"If things had been different, I don't know if I would be here right now," Lee says. And Kara sits down now, her eyes wide with pain and betrayal.

"So this has all been what? Settling for the best of the rest?" Kara asks, in a voice that threatens tears and violence. "Did you ever mean it when you said you loved me?"

"Yes, I did," Lee says forcefully. "Damn it, I do love you. I don't think it's as easy as I love Laura, I don't love you, or I love you, I don't love Laura. I love you, Kara. That doesn't change."

"She's old enough to be your mom," Kara says bitterly, rubbing her knuckles.

"And you dated my brother and are practically my sister," Lee replies. "We can bandy about the reasons why or why not until we get into a fistfight, but I don't know if it changes anything. I don't even know what to do. There are rumors up and down the fleet that I have a magic dick..."

"Rumors I can and will take care of in short order," Kara says with a grim laugh.

"And the other half thinks I'm a Cylon or out of my mind in my drive to control the president and become the Supreme Commander of Everything," Lee concludes. "Shit, Kara, this shouldn't have happened."

"Because your precious Laura should have DIED?" Kara asks. "Or because I should be forgiving of your little affair like a good sacrificing woman? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because we didn't plan to tell anyone," Lee says. "Whether she died or not. That was for us, good or bad. For me and Laura, and the love affair that wasn't. And now I'm wondering how word got out, and why Galactica's leaking state and personal secrets like a rusty derelict."

Kara snorts, shaking her head at him. "This is why you and the president get along," she says. "We're fighting about how you cheated on me and why I should kick your ass for being in love with two women at once and treating me like I'm too stupid to get it, and you're making me worry about the world."

Lee chances a smile, and when Kara only sighs and rolls her eyes, nods grimly.

"Well, that's your choice, isn't it? Whether or not you forgive me for what I did," he says. "I guess that is a trick I learned from Laura, isn't it? I'll accept your choice whether you kick my ass or forgive me, because I did what I did, and I earned the consequences."

Kara covers her eyes with her hand and groans noisily. "You're a frakking con artist, Apollo," she says. "I should kick your ass just for that line of crap. You've got a few choices to make, too. I mean, it's not like I can inform you that we can stay together *if* you drop the bitch and never see her again and expect not to get laughed out of the room."

"No," Lee says, surprised at how easy it is to sound calm in the midst of personal anguish. "Probably not."

"And it's not like even if I hate you right now, I don't love you, too," Kara says, her voice now full of tears. "And that I don't want you to pick me. Even if I realize it's not going to work."

"Well," and Lee hears a distinct lump in his voice from swallowed emotion. "I do still love you. And I want you. But I...frak, Kara. I don't know. I look at Laura, and we know what the other one's thinking. We fit together in a way that..."

His voice trails off and the tears roll over Kara's cheek. "Yeah, I know. Don't be stupid, Lee. It's not like I don't get it," she says harshly. "If this were a movie, I'd want you two crazy kids to get your happily ever after. I want you to pick me anyway. Forget perfect. Perfect is boring. Pick me."

Her red-rimmed eyes are a kick in the gut that connects, and Lee looks away.

"It's not like I'm deciding a favorite pyramid team, Kara," he says plaintively. "It's not easy. I'm not doing this just to make you beg. And I don't think I can just pick you and make it all better."

"You could frakking try if you wanted to," Kara replies, her voice ringing out as she wraps her arms around herself protectively. "But that would only work if you wanted me more than you want her. And you don't, Lee. You...you want to have it both ways, but if I forced you to choose? You would choose Laura. You've already chosen her. Everything else, all this bitching about how hard it is and how you love me? Is frakking navel-gazing."

"Or maybe you're making it too easy because you've decided that whatever my answer, we're done," Lee answers, looking up in shock at what she's just said. "Ever think of that?"

"Get out, Lee," Kara says quietly, her shoulders trembling. "I can't do this right now. You could even be right, but, please. Get out."

Lee sighs. Picks up his boots, and notes there is a messily packed bag with most of his stuff inside. "Right," he says. "We're going to have to..."

"Get. Out," Kara says. "Now."

* * *

After wandering around the ship for a while and finding himself confronted with mostly unfriendly faces, Lee finds himself sitting on the observation deck.

Alone. With still more unfriendly glares aimed his way.

Lee ignores them, and stares into space, wondering if it could have possibly gone worse with Kara.

Possibly they could have gotten into a fistfight, but that actually would have been better. A Starbuck who's too angry to fight is a serious and dangerous Kara, and everything she said to him in the heat of the moment is seething under the skin like a slow-working poison.

Her words have the ring of truth to them, and Lee doesn't want to believe them. So he goes through them, assessing the separate truth of each statement as objectively as he can.

There are some things Kara said that were untrue: he didn't mean to hurt her. Nor did he simply choose her because Laura was dying.

The decision that wasn't never happened; it was like saying that Kara, for example, was frakking Zak because Lee was dating Gwen for the first two weeks of their relationship.

Lee knows this much is true, and that he genuinely cares for Kara, but it's the last thing she's said that has him squirming.

Kara is right. If he were forced to choose, and he's been forced to choose, he would choose, has chosen, Laura.

Laura whom he might not even have. Or who might be a Cylon. Or might be dying after all.

And he doesn't want to make that choice. More than anything else, this is what makes him an asshole, and Kara absolutely right to send his ass packing.

But when someone draws a hand across his back, Lee smiles anyway, despite the gnawing guilt in his stomach.

"I have very, very good news," Laura murmurs into his ear.

"I know," he says, feeling rather than seeing her sit down next to him. "Our tests are negative. Thank the gods."

"Your father told me himself. He was glad," she says. "Why are you sitting next to a giant duffel bag?"

"Starbuck," Lee says. "Someone decided to tell her everything. And she reacted in true Kara fashion."

"She's hurt," Laura says. "Give her a day to calm down and it'll be all right. She loves you, Lee. With all her heart."

Lee pauses. "And what, you just want the best for me?" he asks. "Are we still going to play that game? Even now?"

"Do you have something you'd like to say, Captain?" Laura replies, a little too tartly, giving him the presidential glower.

"I love you," Lee says. "And tonight, while I was dodging my boots and getting screamed at by Kara, someone who I've loved as a sister, a friend, and a lover for nearly ten years, I got called on it. The big thing, the thing that matters. If I have to choose, I choose you. And I'm not good at doing that. I don't like to choose, I don't things are that simple, that you love one person and only that person, that you have to decide between black and white, vanilla or chocolate, whatever. I think there's always room for compromise."

Laura doesn't say anything. Oh, frak, she's waiting for the end of his prepared speech thing he didn't even realize he'd prepared before she says anything. Or at least, he thinks so. He's not looking at her, even though Lee is uncomfortably aware that the entire deck is staring at them by now.

"The point is, I suck at making choices when I know whatever I choose, I'm going to hurt someone I love," Lee says, shifting. "And I hurt Kara really badly because I wasn't able to admit that I choose you. Ever since I've met you, whenever I've had to make the hard choice, it's for you. Because when I look at you, I believe -- I know -- that we are going to win this fight. I believe in the gods, and love, and a future for everything that matters, because I love you. And even if you tell me right now that I'm young and idealistic and not thinking straight because of my fight with Kara, I had to say this to you now. I love you. I believe in you, and you have changed my life because of who you are."

Out of breath, heart racing, and feeling like the biggest idiot since Birch took over his job temporarily, Lee turns and looks at Laura. The entire room, which was indeed listening, inhales practically in unison.

Laura has her face covered by her hands, which sends Lee's gut into freefall until her eyes open wide, tear-bright, and her hands sink to reveal a sheepish smile.

"What I was going to say, before you made that impassioned speech, was that I had more good news," she says in a wavering voice. "Cottle finished doing the tests. He...he told me that it's definitely remission. That the cancer is practically gone."

Lee hears himself shout something incoherent, but he doesn't know what, because he's too busy grabbing his president by her waist, picking them up, and twirling her around.

Only after he sets her down and she sways slightly does Lee finally hear what he's saying.

"That's good. That's SO good," he says over and over until she puts her hand on his mouth.

"You sound a little overwhelmed," Laura says, smiling. "I know the feeling."

"Overwhelmed? Overwhelmed like I should go?" Lee asks.

"No!" Laura says, half-laughing and a little too forceful. "Definitely not. Don't you dare go anywhere. I might faint. I had a terrible bout of food-poisoning today and that spinning made me dizzy."

Feeling a little daring and definitely dizzy himself, Lee puts his arm around Laura, who accepts the courtesy gracefully.

"Everyone is staring at us," she murmurs under her breath.

"Yeah, I know," Lee says very quietly. "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive," Laura says. "You made a better speech than I was going to. Mine was basically, 'I love you. I'm not going to die. Your move.' I think it makes a better response than speech, actually. Don't you?"

"My move?" Lee asks humorously as she winks and smiles. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means KISS HER, you bastard! Gods!" someone shouts, clearly exasperated at the ongoing idiocy.

Lee, blushing slightly, accedes to the demands of the crowd, leaning in and kissing Laura politely. To his surprise, she pulls him in for a longer, and definitely passionate kiss as the crowd cheers.

Definitely, with Laura? Things are going to be different.

* * *

  


When Tigh walks into the room, Kara is carving something into the metal bedpost with a pocket knife. It might be an obscene symbol, or it might just be a complicated arrangement of lines.

"So now you're an artist again?" Tigh asks sarcastically.

"Yeah, painting with violence," Kara mutters, working the tip into the previous mandala. "It'll be all the frakking rage next week."

"Don't destroy your bunk, Lieutenant," he says, putting a hand on the well-carved metal. "You're just ruining the knife."

"Mine to ruin," Kara says defiantly.

"Adama's reassigned Lee's bunk to someone else," Tigh says. "Don't know if you heard about the frakking ruckus on the observation deck, or if you're too busy sulking your head off."

"Don't know, don't want to know," Kara replies, kicking at the mattress and going back to her carving. "So are you here to tell me I have a new rackmate or is there something else?"

Tigh snorts. "Get your ass up," he orders. "That's an order, so don't give me any more of your shit, Starbuck."

Kara pockets the knife and sneers at Tigh as she rolls off her bunk and salutes with the crispness of contempt.

"Yes, sir? What do you want me to do, sir?" she barks at him.

"Stop giving me so much frakking attitude," Tigh says. "You've gotten a raw deal, and everyone knows it. No excuse to carve up Galactica instead of that idiot Apollo."

Kara shrugs. "Whatever's available, sir. You can sell it as folk art after we get to Earth," she says. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Damn right we are," Tigh says, leading them down the corridor. "Don't have time to lose another pilot to attitude this week, and you're not in any position to know what you want."

"Since when did you give a damn, sir?" Kara asks.

"Since I wanted to make sure that idiot Apollo didn't get the idea that everyone thinks he's doing the right thing," Tigh says. "Or anything right at all. I don't get why everyone thinks that kid's piss smells like honey."

Kara should be telling Tigh to frak off, she still loves Lee, that Apollo's a great CAG, and brave, and a better leader than his drunken, smelly ass, but it feels good. Having someone agree that he's being an idiot. Having someone agree.

"Well, shit howdy, sir," Kara drawls. "Sounds like we might have a truce on our hands. We can make a club: The Lee Has No Magic Penis Club."

Tigh grunts. "Didn't need to hear about that, Starbuck," he says. "Frakking gods, where the frak is--"

Kara holds up his flask. "Sorry, sir, I think I need it more than you," she says. "You already reek like sodden dog, and you're not the one who got ditched by your idiot boyfriend cuz his mommy's all available now."

To Kara's surprise, Tigh slaps her on the back familiarity and shakes his head. "He's a frakking moron," he says, barging into the pilot's ready room. Everyone jumps to their feet and salutes. "Sit down, will you?"

"We are sitting down, sir," someone yells. "Just looks like we're standing cuz you're on your ass again."

"Ah, frak the lot of you," Tigh snarls. "So you all know what's going on, and you damn well better know what your duty is to a fellow officer. If I come back tomorrow morning and Starbuck here hasn't won all your shit, gotten so drunk she can't see, and been frakked six ways to Tuesday, I'll put you all on deck-washing duty. You hear me?"

The old man totally put him up to this, Kara realizes. Tigh doesn't have good ideas like this, and as much as it makes the romantic part of Kara that is crying her ass off about Lee not choosing her cry harder, this is a pretty good idea.

But the fact that he's willing to go along with it? And the fact that the old man thought it up?

It helps. Especially when Helo puts an arm around her, and one of the hot newbies who can't corner for shit puts another arm around her, pulling her toward the poker table.

"Yeah, we got you, sir," Helo says. "Eat, drink, and be merry, cuz tomorrow we've got Cylons to frak up."

Tigh salutes, steals his flask back to Kara and takes off just as the hot newbie pilot gives her a very suggestive smirk.

In the long run, things are still gonna suck, but it's good to know that people love her. That not everyone is on board with the new couple and their happiness.

"Hey, no requisitioning Starbuck until after she's cleaned an arrogant bitch or two out," Helo bellows. "You'll get your turn later. Maybe after you prove you can do a body shot."

And it's good to have a Helo, Kara decides, sliding into a vacated chair. Everyone should have one.

* * *

  


Probably Gaeta is the only one not satisfied with how everything has turned out. Nobody seems to care that they have no answers for anything, as long as Roslin and Apollo aren't actually Cylons. Or maybe just that open civil strife isn't rearing its ugly head.

But so many loose ends. Cottle's breach of confidentiality when Gaeta approached him. The shocking way everyone has behaved. The part where no one even questioned their basic premises about anyone.

This is why he's talking to a Cylon about his misgivings. Has to be.

"Interesting she was the one to give you the problem and the out, huh?" Boomer asks. "I mean, she's clearly not a Cylon, but President Roslin does have some uncanny abilities, doesn't she? Scared the shit out of me, first time I met her."

"Well, she was right. They were false positives," Gaeta says. "But I realized something. We were wrong about the direction of transmission. Lee's false positive was definitely passed via sexual contact, but the president's wasn't, which is why she got the food-poisoning, flu-type thing and Lee didn't."

Boomer snorts. "Welcome to Basic Common Sense, Gaeta," she says with a snort. "Did you really think dick was magic? I thought that was just an urban legend that Helo liked to joke about."

Gaeta gives Boomer a withering glance. One day, he will figure out a way to get Helo back for spreading that joke around. Cylon-loving idiot.

"I can make sure you don't see him tomorrow," he says calmly. "Anyway, Adama sent me up here to ask about the real plan. And I wanted to know if you're going to tell me about the obvious Cylon in our midst, or if you're going to make me make you tell."

Sharon shakes her head, laughing hard. "Talk simpler, Gaeta. They didn't make me complex enough to understand all the delicate nuance you're trying to transmit. That or you're not making sense," she says.

"Cylons cured the Prophet. Yes or no?" Gaeta asks.

"I don't know," Boomer says. "Why would we do that? And who do you think the Cylon is, anyway?"

"Because she's the real thing," Gaeta says. "Despite all the spin from Baltar. And you're trying to discredit her."

Boomer chuckles. "Didn't figure you for a believer, Gaeta. Got a guess about the agent, too?" she asks.

"I have a suspicion," Gaeta replies. "I'm running the tests now, but as this week's shown, it's not good to upset the applecart until you've seen the bigger picture."

"And he's such a nice, cute boy," Boomer taunts, confirming Gaeta's dread. "And you get along so well with Dee. It would be a shame to have to tell her she's dating a Cylon, wouldn't it?"

"Shut up," Gaeta says.

"Anytime," she retorts. "By the way, I'm probably lying to you. I don't know if the kid's a Cylon or not. For all you know, I'm just frakking with you because it's you. Or Cottle. Or nobody. I mean, frak, that's why there aren't so many Cylons in the fleet, you know? Just one of us becomes fifty with the rumors."

"Are you trying to break the President?" Gaeta asks, slightly curious. "It seems like anyone who gets close to her ends up betraying her. Or dying. Or both."

"Not **everyone** ," Boomer points out. "She's still got Lee Adama, if what Helo told me yesterday is true."

"Are you sure it's him?" Gaeta asks, heavy-hearted.

"No, I'm not," Boomer says. "You gonna bust him if the test comes up ambiguous?"

Gaeta's figured all this out, of course, but he's not going to share his deeper thoughts with a Cylon. There's more going on than a simple discrediting campaign; the president's information has been good, and she doesn't rest on her uncanny abilities as the source of power. At this point, more people would rather Laura Roslin lived even if it doesn't quite fit the Pythian scrolls.

And at this point, the Cylons think she's a prophet. Whatever their endgame is, it's aimed squarely at the president.

So if it's true, if Billy is the Cylon and her very small inner circle deteriorates, there's only one person she relies on. Gaeta didn't get to see the big speech on the observation deck, but he's heard enough of it to know that there's no more hiding the Apollo/Roslin alliance-cum-love affair-cum-marriage of the minds and bodies. And except for people who know and love Starbuck, everyone is pleased. What Lee said on the deck, that they just plain work, is true.

Before, she was invincible. Dying, yes, but nothing would have stood between her and saving humanity.

Now they have a way to get to her. Now she's human like everyone else, with a personal reason to long for Earth, whereas before...

"Whoever your God is, he's got pretty good plans," Gaeta says. "Even if the short-term plans look insane."

"God works in mysterious ways," Sharon replies. "Now get the frak out of here before I lose my visitor privileges and can't see Helo."

Gaeta nods and stumbles out of the room.

Tries to think about what he's going to do next.

He has absolutely no idea.


End file.
